Patchwork
by SunshineDaisiesWindmills
Summary: A series of drabbles centering on Lily and James Potter.
1. Chapter 1

"So, Evans, fancy a walk around the lake this evening?" he said while wiggling his eyebrows.

"The answer, Potter, is no," she responded. She sighed before adding, "As always…"

He moved a bit closer to where she was sitting, by herself, at Gryffindor table, "Come on, Evans," he dropped his voice, sheltering their conversation from prying ears, "when are you going to warm up and go out with me?"

"Probably about the same time you grow up," she didn't look up from her copy of _The Daily Prophet,_ "so, you know, never."

"I _have_ grown up though!" He replies, "I've grown nearly six inches in the past year." She responds with a blank stare. "Honestly though, I have. I'm changing, and I'm doing it for you, so why don't you go out with me and see it?"

"Why don't you quit acting like I owe you something?" He looked completely stunned. She continued, "I never asked you to change for me. Growing up wasn't some big favor I asked of you that I'm going to repay with a date. So stop acting like, like, you _deserve_ one just because you've changed a little. That's not how it works, Potter."

"Well," he responded slowly, "if that's the way you feel…"

"Since when have my feelings ever been a secret?" 

"I guess I never realized you felt quite so strongly about it," she shrugged off his comment and continued reading her paper. He sat down on the bench next to her, facing away from the table but leaning against it. He inhaled deeply, "So, you're saying I don't have a chance at all with you. You'll never date me?"

She practically threw her paper in frustration, "Well, I can't guarantee that pigs will never fly, or that there won't be a bronze statue of me one day, but I can assure that it's not very likely."

He thought for a moment, then chuckled, shaking his head, "You have no idea," he muttered. She didn't catch his comment, "So I _do _have a chance then."

"Not really, no," she shook her head.

"But slightly."

"A snowballs chance in Hell, really."

"But that's a chance."

"I guess."

"I'll take it."


	2. Chapter 2

She stared at him, squinting, as though he were very far away, or obscured by a bright light and she was trying to decipher his form. Of course, by some accounts, that was exactly what she was trying to do.

"You're staring at me," he says simply. It is not a judgment, merely an observation. "Now, I know I'm attractive, but honestly, Evans, control yourself!" She laughs at him, then looks away shaking her head. "Really though, is there something on my face?"

"No," she chuckles, "No, of course there's not. And I wasn't looking at your face anyway."

He raises an eyebrow, "What were you looking at then?"

She bites her lip and thinks for a moment. "Your soul," she answers as honestly as she can.

"You can see my soul?" He was skeptical.

"I'm trying to,"

"Are you having any luck?"

"Not really," she peers into his eyes, "You're a very difficult character to make out, Mr. Potter."

He tips his head quizzically, "Isn't everyone though?"

"No," she smiles, "No, most people are easy."

"Really?"

"Oh yes. Look at Sirius. He spends his life trying to be exactly the opposite of his family, and he'll tell you it's because he detests everything they stand for, which is very, very true, but another part of it, a much smaller part, admittedly, is that his family rejected him. He was different so they disowned him. And that hurts, that hurts no matter how much he claims to hate them. He thinks that if he becomes the opposite of them, maybe he'll finally be free of them."

James pondered over the insight on his best mate, "You're right," he finally admitted.

"Well, like I said, Sirius was easy. You, you are much more difficult."

"What have you discovered so far?"

"Are you sure you want to hear this?" Her face is stern, warning, "It isn't always easy."

"Yes, I definitely want to hear this."

"Well, you're almost exactly the opposite of Sirius, you want to be exactly the same as your family, because they are wonderful people and they loved you. In that same vein, you're the opposite of Remus, too. You'll love anyone, unless they give you a reason not to, and you're not afraid to be loved, either. You kind of expect it, actually-"

"Hey!"

"I told you it wouldn't be easy."

"Yeah, okay, what else have you got?

"Not much, really."

He smirked a bit, "What are you having trouble with, then?"

"Well, we've established that you're a very loving person," James nodded, "and while you act like that among your friends, in front of everyone else, you put on this façade. You act like some gigantic toe-rag, and you're mean to people, and I don't understand why. Why on Earth would you act like this horrible person that you are so obviously _not?"_

He paused, "Because being nice to people isn't cool."

She laughed at him loudly, but quieted after a harsh stare from Madam Pince. "I assure you that is not the case," she reprimanded him; "The majority would say that nice people are much cooler than mean people."

"No one wants to be like the nice guy."

"But they should," she scolded, "and maybe they would if you tried it."

He shrugged, "I'll think about it."

She smiled, then started laughing again, "Because it's _not cool?_ Really, James?" He nodded, "I'll keep that in mind, but I'm sure there's more to it."

"Really?" he raised his eyebrows.

"I'll let you know." He turned away from her chuckling, expecting to return to his work, "I'm not finished yet."

"Oh really, there's more mystery to me?"

"Oh yes. You're full of mystery."

"What is it then?"

"Well, you're pureblood, and you're arrogant beyond belief, but your arrogance has nothing to do with your blood-status, and that's intriguing, because usually it's a contributing factor." He scrunched his face in confusion. Lily continued, trying to explain, "Usually, having full magic blood makes people cocky about it, but not you. You don't think that blood had anything to do with it. Your head is big, because you think you're great, just because you are, not because your blood makes you that way."

"Very true, blood doesn't have anything to do with it."

She nodded, "And you want people to know it. You're extremely vocal about it, about everything, and I mean, that's definitely the right thing, but it's unexpected coming from you. You're the only child of an old, rich, pureblood couple. And I mean, I guess that you're parents probably taught you some of it, but you learn more from the people you're around than your parents, and most of the people around you disagree."

He smirked to himself, while Lily looked on waiting for an explanation.

"That's a mystery to you?" he asked her, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Yes, I don't understand it at all."

He chuckled, "See, that's the thing about you, and _your_ soul, you're so consumed figuring out other people; thinking about how they think and what makes them tick and if they need help and how you can help them, and that's great, but you spend so much time on it, you don't really understand yourself."

She looked at him, her face full of the confusion he had held in his earlier. He smiled, "You're right, I did learn more from the people I was around than my parents. But you're looking at the wrong people."

Lily quite obviously, had no clue what James was on about, and her expression showed it clearly.

"I learned it from _you, _Lily."

She couldn't help but grin.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Not exactly Jily, but I don't really have another place for it, and I kind of like it. Enjoy :)

* * *

><p>He hates muggles.<p>

They are wretched, vile, evil creatures. All of them. The whole lot. They must be. Why else would his mother have married such a one? Obviously it would have been better if she had married a wizard, but honestly, his mother wasn't exactly crème of the crop, so a muggle had to do. And obviously, she would have the best muggle. Even if lowest of the low in magic, she was better than the best muggle.

So, all muggles must be like his father. They _must_ be. Worse, even. And his father is pretty terrible, so he can only imagine how awful other muggles must be.

He resolves never to associate with them, because _he_ is magic and _he_ is above them. So he runs around in his wizard garb and the muggles stare at him and call him strange, but he doesn't care, because they don't _know_ about magic, or they would know how much better than them he was.

And then he sees her. He sees her and he thinks that maybe he was wrong about muggles, because she is the most perfect thing he's ever seen, and there's _no way_ that she could be evil, or vile, or wretched. She just can't be.

He watches her. She goes against every belief he's held in his short life, and it's just so intriguing that he can't tear his eyes away. And he's glad he didn't after a few days because he sees her do the strangest things: fly off a swing, make plants grow, objects move- and surely it must be magic! Her sister, though, is decidedly muggle. Wretched, and vile, and evil, and fearful of magic and things that are better than her. It confirms every belief he's ever held.

He tells her, the perfect one. He tells her everything he knows. About magic, and Hogwarts, and the entire world she's missing out on. And he tells her about his father too, because it seems that once he's started, he just can't stop. (Surely it's the magic in her enchanting him in some way or another). And when she asks if it matters that her family is muggle, he lies and tells her no, because he can't bear to see a frown upon her pretty face. And why should it matter? _She's_ magic, (sometimes he thinks she's more magic than he is, but that can't be right) so why should matter? He doesn't really understand it, but for whatever reason it seems extremely important to her, so he goes with it.

He talks to her about it as often as he can, and together they dream and scheme and wonder about the magic. She is quickly his favorite person in the entire world, and he is struck by the injustice of her having to live out her days with muggles; the injustice of both of them stuck with muggles. Maybe one day they'll live together and wonder at how they ever lived without magic. But it seems like that's forever away.

Her sister, the muggle, seems to hate him. He can't say he doesn't understand; presumably, before the perfect one had met him, she had spent her time with the muggle. She still spends time with her, but not nearly as much as before. He'd hate him too. The muggle spies on them, it's not surprising really, but it infuriates him. Lily was _his._ He hurts her, the muggle, not on purpose, but he knows he did. It upsets her, the perfect one, the one he cares about, and again he doesn't understand why. She's just a muggle.

She stays away from him for a while, it seems like years, but she comes back eventually. He knew she would. He's her only connection to magic, and now that she knows about it, she can't live without it. So she comes back and they continue scheming and dreaming. She has many questions, and he usually has the answers. When they get their Hogwarts letters, the first thing they do is find each other. They avoid conversation about muggles.

And then, finally, it's time. They're both eleven and it's September first. He finds her on the train, but she seems to have no interest in him. She's crying again, upset by the muggle. A freak, she says, her sister thinks she's a freak. She's not of course, her sister's the freak. But Lily doesn't understand that. She doesn't understand that she's so much better than her sister, just by who she is. She's much better than most people, magic or muggle, but she doesn't realize that either.

In fact, she never realizes it. It seems like she doesn't learn anything from her years at Hogwarts. At least, not what he had expected her to learn. What he had always known. She doesn't realize that she's better than everyone in the House she was sorted into, she doesn't realize that she's better than the people she surrounds herself with. Heck, she's friends with a _werewolf_, and she doesn't even think she's better than _him._ He tries to convince her, to introduce her to quality people, people like him, but she won't have it, and they don't see how great she is. _Mudblood_ they call her, dirty blood. Less than them, because of her family. They don't understand. She doesn't understand either. It's okay though, because she doesn't hate him like she hates them, he doesn't care about her blood, she says, he knows her family, they're not less than him. (He doesn't tell her they are. She wouldn't understand.)

The talk less now, they don't share all of their classes and they're both busy with homework. He spends time with his friends, she with hers. He acts more like them, thinks more like them. She does too, with hers. They tell him things he's never thought of before, and he can finally speak freely, because Lily's not there to get upset about her family. He's certain that with this new information, he'll be able to finally convince her, one day.

But a different day comes first. He let's something slip to her, something he doesn't think, and he doesn't mean. But he says it because he's never been so upset about something, and it just falls out of his mouth. He calls her a mudblood. He tries to apologize but she won't hear it. She will listen to none of it. He doesn't understand.

He thinks the whole world would be better if they just didn't exist. It's their fault, all of this. It's their fault the girl he loves will no longer speak to him. He blames all of them. If they didn't exist, or if they were in their proper place, he wouldn't have this problem. Lily would _know_, then. She would need convincing. But she does, because they're not, and so it's _their fault._

They are wretched, vile, evil creatures. All of them. The whole lot. They must be.

He hates muggles.


	4. Chapter 4

She awoke to bright sun streaming in from the window and birds chirping somewhere outside. "_Fuck,"_she moaned as she rolled over and pulled the covers on her head. "Why is it so bright?" she complained to no one in particular. Her head was throbbing, and as she slowly removed the covers from her face and opened her eyes, she felt her irises contract painfully. "Merlin," she stretched herself out, tenderly trying to remove the knots that had accumulated in her muscles.

She rose from the bed and took in her strange surroundings. It was certainly not her flat; Lily kept her things much tidier. Clothes were strewn all about the room, and only the dress she had worn last night belonged to her. She left it on the floor, remaining in her bra and tights as she left the room to explore her surroundings. A mirror over the door revealed smeared lipstick, smudged eye shadow and extremely disheveled hair. She scratched her head, opened the door and wandered out into the hallway.

Lily Evans was a mess. That was certain. When had this happened to her? When had she become so calm about waking up in strange locales, half naked and hung over? This should not be a common practice, and yet she was completely unfazed. She thought she might be able to place the beginning of this…

"Good morning, love," a cheerful voice greeted her from behind a newspaper as she made her way into the kitchen. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

She nodded her head and yawned, "Yes, please," stretching her back as she did so.

James Potter set down the copy of _The Daily Prophet_ he had been reading and rose to the counter to retrieve the requested tea. Lily took a seat at the table, snatched a piece of toast from his plate and took a bite.

James returned to the table and set the tea down in front of her, "Sleep well?" he smiled.

She nodded, and swallowed the bit of toast in her mouth before asking, "Where are we?"

He chuckled, "My place. Don't you remember?"

"Not really," she took another bite of toast. "Did we…" she blushed at the thought, "What did we do?"

"Well you went out drinking," yes, she remembered that, "and got completely pissed," well, obviously, "and I just happened to be there," he smirked, "and you noticed, because how could you not notice? I have a presence." Lily rolled her eyes at him, "And you found me and declared your love for me and demanded that I take you home at once."

She winced, "How much of that is true?"

"At least ninety percent."

"And what happened after you brought me home?"

He looked away from her, "We snogged a bit…"

"So you took advantage of your poor inebriated friend who obviously needed your help," she scolded.

"Well, I wasn't exactly sober, and you were offering, almost begging, really."

She rolled her eyes. "Sure I was…"

"Well, maybe not _begging_…" She narrowed her eyes at him, "Well you started it, anyway."

She chuckled. That sounded about right… "But that," she swallowed hard, "That's all, right."

"Well… yeah…" James was avoiding eye contact with her.

She cringed. "I fell asleep didn't I?"

James burst into laughter, "Yes. You did. One second your tongue was in my mouth and I went to turn out the light and the next think I knew you were asleep. And snoring."

She was blushing furiously, but couldn't help but laugh with him. "I'm sorry about that…"

"It's alright," he replied, "I knew it was too good to be true."

Her laughter subdued and she looked away from him, taking a sip of tea. A smile lingered on his face, but was slowly fading.

"I-it doesn't have to be," she said, turning to face him. He looked at her curiously, "It- maybe it- maybe it could be true."

He gave her a small smile, "The moment's passed, Lily. We can't go back now. You can pretend it never happened and go back to hating me in peace now. So long as you don't mind my keeping the memory."

"I don't hate you," she said, "I don't hate you at all. In fact," she smiled, "I'm really quite fond of you. I-I don't remember exactly what I said to you last night, but I'm sure that at least most of it was true. Something about drunken words being sober thoughts, right? And I'm over lying about the whole thing anyway."

"What are you trying to say?" He was cautious. He was playing it safe, the way he had learned to be with her after all these years.

"I'm trying to say that I fancy you, James," she blushed, "Quite a lot, if we're being honest here."

He beamed at her, his expression the happiest she had ever seen, "Well, it just so happens that I fancy you too, Lily."

She chuckled, "Well what a coincidence."

"A lovely little happenstance."

"Want to give last night another try?" She tried for a sly sort of look, but couldn't stop her grin long enough to manage it.

As a reply, he leaned over, grasped the back of her neck, and kissed her.

* * *

><p>An hour later, they lay together on James' couch. Lips swollen, hair messier than ever, necks both covered with pink marks in various shades. Lily's head rested on James' bare chest, and she traced shapes onto his stomach with her fingertips. James had one hand playing with her hair, the spread across them both and resting on her waist. After a while, Lily's hand stopped moving, and the only noise in the room came from their breathing.<p>

"Y-you told me you loved me," James said, "last night. You said you loved me."

"Did I?"

"Yes," he breathed, silently asking her.

She moved to gaze at his face, "Could be true."


	5. Chapter 5

The wind was howling. It beat against Gryffindor tower, causing creaks and moans from the ancient building. The eerie noises crept into Lily's dreams, putting strange images in her head.

One of them woke her with a start, and after a few moments of tossing and turning, trying to forget the utterly creepy sounds about her, Lily decided to read a bit. Her roommates, of course, were sound asleep in their beds, and so as not to disturb them, Lily took her book and made her way into the common room.

It was dark and empty, only a soft glow and quiet crackle coming from the fireplace. It wasn't quite enough light to read by, so she used her wand to create a stronger flame, then lit a few candles and settled herself in. It was not long before she was completely engrossed in her novel.

It was perhaps not the best choice for her to be reading at the moment, the tale was of ghosts and murders, and with the wind howling as it was… Lily was unnerved. Every ambient noise she heard was a ghost or murderer, and then of course the wind. Those couldn't possibly be footsteps coming toward her. It must've been the wind.

Which is why when she heard someone call, "Lily?" she nearly jumped out of her skin. She leapt off the sofa and turned around immediately, only to find James Potter smirking at her. "Alright, Evans?" he did not hide his chuckle very well.

"Perfectly fine, thank you." She sat back down on, attempting to catch her breath. James hopped over the sofa and sat next to her.

"Are you sure? You seem a little nervous…" His grin had not faded.

"It's this book," she motioned to her lap, "I couldn't sleep so I came down to read, but it's kind of really creepy so it's not exactly helping…"

He laughed, "So you're scared?"

"_No,_" she was adamant, "I obviously know that nothing's going to happen…"

"Whatever you say, Evans."

She rolled her eyes and chuckled, "So what about you? What brings you down there at this late hour?"

"Couldn't sleep," he shrugged, "I was going to find something to eat but since you're here…"

"You decided to stop and scare me?"

"The opportunity was prime."

"I appreciate it," she deadpanned.

"Thought so," he stretched one of his arms over the top of the sofa.

"Well I'm glad you're here at any rate, I could use someone to talk to."

He smiled, "Need a big strong man to protect you?"

"If I needed that, I wouldn't be sitting here with _you."_

"Ouch. Cut me deep, Evans."

They laughed together for a few moments, then fell into a comfortable silence. Lily leaned into James, and his arm fell around her shoulders. He played with the ends of her hair.

"James," Lily asked abruptly, "What's going on?"

"Nothing. We're sitting together not talking." As he noticed the words that came out of his mouth he quickly amended, "As friends."

"Because we're friends," she agreed. "And friends do this, right?"

"Definitely."

She turned his head to look up at him, his was turned straight ahead. Her nose scratched against his stubble, and she breathed softly on his neck.

"James," Lily spoke again.

He turned to look at her, "Hmmm?" There were barely centimeters between their noses.

"I don't want to be friends."

"Oh," he pulled back slightly, "Why?"

She chuckled, "Because," she took a breath, "Because I fancy you."

"Oh," he smiled, "I fancy you too."

"I know," she smiled. She was vaguely aware that James was moving closer to her, and that her arms were moving around his neck.

"I was hoping to be secretive about it."

Their noses were brushing against each other.

"I'm glad you weren't," she murmured. Millimeters separated them.

They paused. Her breath hitched. His eyes shut, hers fluttered closed. James took a breath before closing the gap between them.

And they were kissing.


	6. Chapter 6

"I'm sorry," Sirius offered.

"What for?" James scoffed, "You didn't do anything." He didn't look at his friend as he spoke. He lay face down on his bed, his head resting on his arm, not moving.

"Not sorry like I'm apologizing. That's just what you say, isn't it? When someone dies." Sirius sat on the bed across from James.

"It's stupid," James muttered.

"So bloody stupid," Sirius agreed. James didn't speak again. Sirius waited a moment before trying again, "But I mean—you shouldn't be the one going through this. You of all people deserve to be happy. And you certainly don't deserve this."

"Thanks," James spat.

"Look, mate, I know this blows-"

"Yeah, I'm sure you know exactly how this feels," his words were cold and sarcastic and felt like a giant slap in the face.

"No, no I don't know how this feels. I don't have any idea what this feels like for you. My dad's still alive. He hates my guts, disowned me and the only relative that showed me any affection, but trust me, I know that's not the same."

"It's not."

"I _know._ My father was never a real dad to me, so why should I care? But your dad, your dad was like a dad to me. The only dad I ever cared about to be honest. And he's gone. So no, I don't know what's happening with you, but I know what's happening with _me_ and it fucking sucks, so I can't even imagine what you're going through."

James was quiet for a long while. Sirius didn't speak again. After a few moments, James choked, "It fucking blows, man." He rose from his bed, and sat across from his friend, revealing a tear-streaked face.

At the same time they stood, and met in a fierce embrace. James rested his head on Sirius' shoulder as he sobbed. Sirius stood there, his arms wrapped closely around his brother.


	7. Chapter 7

James was all he ever needed. James and Remus and Peter.

He didn't need other friends. He didn't need women. He liked women, on occasion. He had to admit there were some things that could only be provided by a pretty girl, but he didn't _need_ them. Hell, he didn't even need his family. Not as long as he had them. He had Remus for advice, Peter for laughs, and James for both of those and everything else.

James was all he had ever needed.

Sirius would have been perfectly content to live his life with James; living in a bachelor pad, picking up birds together… It could have been a great life.

James had other plans.

He just _had_ to go and fall in love, whatever that meant, and put Sirius' well laid plans to rest.

She wasn't bad, as women went. Sirius certainly didn't hate her, he was actually quite fond of her. She was smart and funny and mostly fun and not even bad to look at. He just didn't see the point. Why would James bring in this fifth piece when the puzzle was already complete? Hopefully it was just a phase.

"Padfoot," James sat next to him one day after a date with Lily. He couldn't stop smiling, and it's so infectious, Sirius started grinning too. "I want to marry her."

So, not a phase then. Sirius held his grin, "Do you now?"

"Yeah," he sighed, "I do."

"Well you're saying that to the wrong person, mate."

James laughed, probably a little harder than the remark warranted. "I'll remember to save them for her from now on."

"So, you're really serious about her then," Sirius' smile had begun to fade. James' remained as vibrant as ever.

"Yeah, I am. How could I not be? She's- she's not perfect, not by any means, but she's perfect for me. You know? It's like, there was always this piece of me missing, but I never knew it was gone. It's her, she's my other half. I can't imagine life without her."

"You're a sop."

James punched him playfully in the arm, but Sirius noticed that he still hasn't stopped smiling. He's never seen James so undeniably happy. It's strange, because Sirius had never noticed James was _un_happy, but maybe it's like James said. There was always something missing, but they never knew it was gone until it was back. Maybe it was like that with the whole group. It had seemed whole, but only because they never knew Lily was missing. She fit well enough.

He wasn't thrilled with the idea, but he could get used to it. He'd have to, wouldn't he?

Later, he ran into Lily as he crossed the common room to the portrait hole. They stopped to greet each other, but neither could stop to talk. As he left, he made sure to peck her on the cheek, "See you around, sis."


	8. Chapter 8

"You'll be fine, James," Lily's words from before echoed in his head as he approached the stoop of the little white house. He took a breath before mounting the stairs. "He'll love you," she had said, "I promise."

It did little to ease his nerves. He had never met a girlfriend's parents before; he wasn't sure exactly how well her father would take to his youngest daughter dating. But Lily had had boyfriends before him, and all of them were still alive, so he didn't think he had _too _much to worry about.

He raised his fist and knocked on the door. A moment later it opened, revealing not Lily as he had hoped, but a tall ginger man he assumed to be her father. He looked James over, and his gaze made James uncomfortable.

"Er… Mr. Evans?" He greeted. He held out his hand.

"You must be James," he grasped his hand tightly around James'. "Nice to meet you," he opened the door a bit wider, "Come in, have a seat," James followed him into a parlor, and sat on the edge of a sofa. "Lily and her mother are finishing up dinner. They'll be out soon."

James swallowed, "Oh, okay."

"So," Mr. Evans was sitting in a large backed chair, "I hear you're dating my daughter."

"Yes, yes sir, I am."

"She's told me a lot about you."

"Good things I hope," James pushed his glasses up his nose. He ran his hand through his hair.

"Lately, yes." James relaxes slightly, "But not always."

"Oh, god," me murmured.

"She tells me you were not always the kindest of sorts."

"I well," he swallowed, "I wasn't, no." Mr. Evans raised his eyebrows, inviting him to continue his explanation. "I was a bit of a git when I was younger."

"You're still young, boy. What sparked the change?"

He paused for a bit, "Lily did," he answered honestly.

"Did she now?"

"Yes. She did. She's such a wonderful, amazing, kind person; she makes me want to be better. She makes everyone around her want to better."

"You're right about that, she is an amazing girl," Mr. Evans nodded, "And she's very special to me. I expect you'll never mistreat her,"

"No! I would _never-"_

"No, you won't."

James swallowed hard. Mr. Evans took a sip from a tumbler that sat on a table next to him. It was a few moments before he spoke again, "What are you intentions with my daughter?"

James was shocked. He raised his eyebrows and blinked several times. "Well, _ideally_ I'd like to marry her, if she'll have me. But I suppose we're a bit young for that now…"

"You want to marry her?"

"Eventually, yes."

Mr. Evans became infinitely more serious, his voice lowered to almost a whisper and he leaned toward James. James imitated the gesture. "Now listen, Lily doesn't know that I know, but there's something going on in you world," James nodded, "and I know it's getting dangerous. She's not one to sit back, she's going to fight, I know she is. I know I can't stop her. I know I can't help her. James, she's in love with you. I know that, if you want to marry her, I'm sure she'll agree. I'm not thrilled about the whole thing, but I'm not going to be able to stop her. I just- I need to know that she'll be safe with you. Can you promise me that you'll protect her."

"Mr. Evans," James smiled, "She doesn't need me for that. She's very capable of taking care of herself. I like to try, and I promise I will try, but you have to know she doesn't always take kindly to it." Mr. Evans chuckled and shook his head. "But if she'll marry me, I promise you I'll try my best to make sure she's safe."

"Daddy!" Lily's voice rang out as she walked in from the kitchen. "Supper's ready!" She approached the two men. James' face light up when he made eye contact with his girlfriend. She grinned at him. "What are you two talking about?"

"Oh you know, guy stuff," Mr. Evans responded, sending James a knowing look. He rose and made his way to the kitchen leaving the young couple to themselves for a moment.

James rose and greeted Lily with a kiss. "Is he being nice?" Lily asked.

"Oh very," James responded, kissing her once again, "I think he likes me."

"I told you he would," she smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

**Instinctual **

Tap. Tap. Tap. Taptaptaptaptap. Lily's manicured fingernail clicked loudly against the vanity where she had moments ago finished applying her makeup. Tap. Tap. Tap. She was sitting in a simple white sundress, and her hair was pulled halfway back, the rest of it falling in soft waves around her shoulders. Tap. Tap. Tap. Strappy sandals with a slight heel were on her feet; she was ready to go. Taptaptaptaptaptaptap.

She was okay. She was eighteen, and in just over quarter of an hour, Lily would be walking down the aisle to the man she loved. Within an hour, she would be married. But she was fine. Really. Taptaptap. She was very possibly about to make the biggest mistake of her life. She was going to marry a man- no, boy, who she had hardly been dating a year, and she was definitely, _definitely_- oh! who was she kidding? She was definitely _not_ okay.

A sharp knock on the door shook her from her reverie. Well she couldn't _answer_ it. She was in no state to see anyone now… No, she definitely needed to be alone. She ignored it. (Was ignoring it the answer to everything?)

"Lily?" a deep, familiar voice called from behind the door, "Lily, can I come in? I want to talk to you."

"You're not supposed to see me before the wedding!" She called back. She couldn't help the smile that formed across her lips.

"Well, why not?" was his reply. "I'm the one marrying you, after all. It's not like I've never seen you before. You're not going to scare me away."

Lily chuckled as she crossed the room toward the door, "That's not the point," she clarified, "It's just bad luck."

"I don't care." She could practically see the shrug of his shoulders. "Do you really believe that?"

"No," Lily muttered, "But... I-I, I dunno. I don't want to risk it."

"You sound ridiculous."

"You're the one marrying me."

"Very true. Now, will you let me in please? I'll close my eyes. I don't have to see you."

She sighed, "Alright." She opened the door very slowly, and peered around the opening to make sure James had actually closed his eyes. Surprisingly, he had, and she made quick work of opening the door the rest of the way and grabbing his hand. "You look very handsome," she said.

"So you get to see me, but I can't see you? I don't think that's very fair," James said as Lily pulled him into the room and shut the door behind them.

"I didn't make up the superstition, I'm just following it," Lily countered. She led James to the center of the room, "Sit down on the floor," she ordered. He did as he was bid, and Lily followed suit, sitting directly behind him so their backs were flush against each other.

"Can I open my eyes now?"

"Yes."

"Good." Lily reached around, leaning fully against James, and placed both of her hands over his. "So," James began, "How have you been?"

"Pretty good," Lily replied, the uncertainty clear in her voice. "I-I've been," could she tell him? Of course she could tell him, she could tell him anything. She always could, "I've been a bit nervous."

"About today?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure," she confided, "I guess I'm worried we're making a mistake."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry," Lily offered, tilting her head back so it rested against his.

"It's okay," James replied, "I was actually thinking the same thing."

"You were _nervous_?"

"Yeah," he answered.

"You, _James Potter,_ was _nervous?"_ It was hardly believable. James Potter was scared of nothing.

"You always make me nervous," he said simply. "But I was kind of thinking along the same lines. We've not been together very long. You _hated_ me for years. We're getting _married. _Do you think we're rushing into this?"

"I never _hated_ you," Lily corrected, "I always had a soft spot for you, really. Your head was just too big for me to show it without severe consequences."

James laughed.

The pair fell silent for a few moments, until Lily spoke, "I do think we're rushing into this."

The only sound was a deep breath from James.

Lily spoke again, "I love you."

"Do you want to marry me?"

"Yes," she answered without thinking, "But I'm not sure that we're _ready_ to get married."

"That's what I was afraid of."

"I thought you thought we were rushing into this too?"

"I do," he said, "But that's always been our style. We kind of jump right into everything. I don't think us rushing into anything is a problem. I-I," he swallowed, "But I thought you might."

"And you were right, as usual."

"I've wanted to marry you since I was fifteen."

"That was three years ago."

"I know."

The silence was almost unbearable.

"You're always so sure of yourself," Lily stated.

"You're never sure of yourself," James retorted. "You should be. You have good instincts."

Lily laughed, "Are you referring to the instincts telling me to marry you, or the ones telling me not to?"

"I'm not talking about those at all. I'm talking about all the other ones. You know how to talk to people. You know what to do in a crisis, you don't even have to stop and think about it. You work miracles, Lily, I've seen them happen."

"So you're telling me to listen to my instincts?"

"You should always listen to your instincts."

"Okay," she answered.

It was quiet again.

"So, what are your instincts telling you?" he asked carefully.

Lily giggled, "That I'll see you in a few minutes. And then every morning for the rest of my life."

James let out a cheer, and Lily couldn't help but laugh harder. They both rose to their feet, "Lead me to the door?" James asked.

"You're not going to sneak a peek at me?" Lily questioned.

"My instincts told me not to."


	10. Chapter 10

**Crazy**

**Part One: Insanity**

Lily didn't bite her nails. She never had. James knew she didn't, because they lacked the telltale rough edges and inflamed tips. It made him wonder then, why her nails were always so short. It wasn't until they had moved in together that he discovered.

Lily didn't bite her nails; she picked them off. He distinctly remembered the first time he noticed her doing it. She was sitting on a chair with a book in her lap. It seemed she had become distracted, as she was looking out the window, and twiddling her thumbs, a soft clicking emanating from her. After closer inspection, he discovered the clicking came from one thumbnail digging against the other. Forming a break toward the edge, until it was large enough that Lily could pull it off.

It was the most bizarre thing James had ever seen.

It began plaguing him. Strange really, that something he hadn't even noticed before was now so prominent to him. Hardly a day went by when James did not hear the _click, click, click, tear, _that was so quickly driving him insane.

It had to stop.

He tried buying her nail varnish, and when that didn't work, paying for manicures, but it seemed Lily didn't care. It held her off maybe a day or so, but it always returned. _Click, click, click, tear._

The sounds that would send him to the insane asylum.

**Part Two: Snap**

Of course. Lily didn't know why she hadn't seen this coming. James _had_ lived with men his entire life, so why should it occur to him to put the toilet seat down?

She hadn't even thought about it the first time she walked into their shared bathroom, went to sit and found herself in a pool of cold water, rather than on the actual seat. It was forgiven immediately, and she had asked James kindly to try and remember, but he still forgot pretty often.

It was absolutely maddening.

After the tenth time she found her arse in the toilet, she tried to stop keeping count. It wasn't as if s_he_ couldn't prevent this from happening, but remembering to look was difficult; especially when she really had to _go._ She just didn't have time, besides, touching the toilet seat with her _hand?_ Gross.

Before long, it seemed like every single time she went into the bathroom, the seat was up. Even when she went to brush her teeth or take a shower, it bothered her. It was almost as if James were taunting her with it, doing it purposefully just to annoy her. A toilet seat of war.

He wasn't though. He was completely oblivious to how it tore at her. He had absolutely know idea how annoying it was, and that just made it worse. He was oblivious to her torture.

She thought she might snap at the sight.

**Part Three: Maddness**

Lily had a very elaborate nighttime routine. She took off her makeup, brushed her teeth, washed her face, brushed her hair, moisturized her face, changed into pajamas (which were _always_ rather skimpy, did she even own sweats?), and applied lotion to her arms, and then her legs.

Every night, she sat on their bed, and gently massaged her bare legs; those beautiful, smooth, flawless legs that went on for _miles._ When James discovered that this was a nightly ritual, he made a very intentional effort to go to bed at the same time. He would sit and watch her, and wonder if she did it that slowly on purpose…

"Do you need help with that?" he asked one night.

"Oh no," Lily replied innocently. She continued her slow motions up the length of her legs and James couldn't help it.

"It's making me mad," he said.

"Putting lotion on my legs?"

"Yes," he breathed, "It is _unbelievably_ sexy."

"Is it now?" she smirked, as her hands moved even slower.

"You do it on purpose," he accused.

Lily dropped her jaw in offense, "I do not!" she countered, "How am I supposed to help it that the routine I've had for _years_ turns you on?"

James didn't even speak his response. Before either of them knew it, his mouth was on hers and his hands were _finally _on those legs and _oh_ it felt so good.

By then, James was sure of it: Lily made him absolutely mad.

**Part Four: Crazy**

It no longer surprised Lily to wake up alone. It had concerned her the first few times, but she was comforted to know that without fail, she would find the early bird down in the kitchen, usually making her breakfast. She figured today was no exception.

She rose from the bed, and covered her naked body in a thin dressing gown. She hardly tied it anymore; a loose knot was all that was necessary. It held the gown in place well enough.

Surely enough, when she found her way into the kitchen, there was James. He stood in front of the oven, his arms moving as he cooked something that smelled absolutely delicious. As usual, he stood only in his boxers.

Lily watched the muscles in his back dance as his arms moved. Without realizing it, she bit her lip. She didn't know how much longer she could last, if every night spent making love was followed by breakfast and a show. It would either kill her or make her crazy, sooner or later.

"Mmmmm," she brought attention to herself. James ignored her. She took a few steps closer to him. "Smells delicious," she said as she pressed herself against his back and wrapped her arms around his torso.

"I'm glad you think so," he responded.

Lily snuggled into his back, and inhaled deeply, "Oh yes, absolutely delicious."

James turned off the stove, and turned in her arms. She moved them automatically to his neck, and he kissed her softly on the mouth.

"James Potter," she whispered as she pulled away, "I am absolutely crazy about you."


	11. Yellow Light of the Morning

She rose quietly. It took quite a lot of effort, as she had become tangled in the sheets over night. After her freeing her limbs, she stepped lightly onto the floor beneath her. As silently as she could manage, she began rummaging around, looking for the clothes that had been strewn across the room the night before. After five minutes of looking with no success, she cursed herself for being so rambunctious.

She just couldn't help it. She was always that way around _him._ Louder and angrier and livelier and funnier and happier and so much more _passionate_ than when she was with anybody else. It was great fun at the time, but when morning came, as it inevitably did, there were always consequences, and they were never fun. She had thoroughly enjoyed herself last night, throwing her clothes off to feel him skin on skin, but now it was morning and she was naked and she couldn't find her clothes and, despite the bright light streaming in from the windows, it was cold.

She stopped looking for a moment, put her hand on her hips, and sighed. The temptation to just crawl back into bed and cuddle up with the boy sleeping in it, the boy who was always, always warm, was overwhelming. It wasn't like he would mind… Actually he'd probably rather enjoy it and maybe they'd… No! No. No, no, no, no, no. She could not do that. She had plans! She had promised herself that she would not fall back into that delicious trap. She had plans and she was sticking to them!

As if a sign from the heavens, the moment she resolved to stick with the aforementioned plans, she noticed her knickers hanging from a lamp on the bedside table. Success! She walked quickly over to the other side of the room, pulled the offending material off the lamp shade and pulled them back on. Now, where was her shirt? She continued rummaging around, searching for the missing article. Where was it? And why was it so cold?

"What are you doing?" A deep voice called from behind her. She froze immediately. She turned to face the no-longer-sleeping man who was now sitting against the headboard, wrapped in a sheet and looking at her expectantly. The morning light reflected off of him, and though she knew the sheets were white, they appeared yellow in the glow. She didn't answer. "Leaving already?"

"You weren't supposed to wake up," she replied. Her hands were on her hips and her expression scolded him. She was only vaguely aware that the effect was ruined by her nakedness, "You always ruin everything."

"_I_ ruin everything?" he responded. He rose from the bed and began to approach her, "But _you're_ the one leaving me in bed."

"Of course I am, Potter," she maintained her stance, "I have plans."

He came closer. "Plans?" he asked, "Well that's funny, because I have some plans too."

"Oh really?" She tried to keep a straight face, but he was very close now, and he was leaning into her and it was difficult not to smile when he was so near. "What sort of plans?"

"The kind that involve you staying here with me," he whispered. He moved slightly closer and wrapped his arms around her, covering her naked body with the sheet wrapped around him, and immediately warming her with his embrace, "And getting rid," his hands moved down to the knickers she had found earlier, "Of these."

"Mmmmmm," she pretended to think about his proposition, but her arms found his shoulders of their own accord, "I think I could be amenable to your plans…" she smiled and leaned up to kiss him.

As usual with James, she just couldn't help herself. He was so warm, and it seemed as though he was glowing in the yellow light of the morning. That was just James though; it seemed he was always glowing. Of course, he made everyone around him glow too. It was why Lily loved him so much.

He leaned into her, and let her begin pushing him back toward the bed. He stopped her briefly before they toppled over, "So, what exactly _were_ you planning this morning?"

"Oh," she grinned, "I was going to make you breakfast, but I like this idea more."

"Merlin, I really ruin everything, don't I?" She nodded, "Well," he said, "We can always go back to your idea later…"

She giggled, "Okay, James, I'll make you breakfast."

"I love you, Lily," he kissed her on the nose.

She grinned and crinkled her face, "I love you too, James."


	12. Forgiveness

"_What_ did you just say?" James questioned, his voice angry.

"I _said,_" Lily retorted, "That Quidditch is _just_ a game."

"Quidditch is most certainly _not_ just a game, Lily! It is _so much more."_

"Relax, James," she attempted to soothe him, "I _know_ how serious Quidditch is. I was just joking."

If possible, James's lips formed and even thinner line. In staccato syllables, James replied, "We. Do. Not. Joke. About. _Quidditch!_"

Lily bit her lip to avoid laughing at her frustrated boyfriend. "You're right," she said, though she failed to keep her voice as serious as she would have liked, "Quidditch is not a joke, I'm very sorry."

"Apology not accepted," he said. He raised his nose, looking away from her and crossing his arms over his chest.

"James!" Lily pleaded, "I said I was sorry! Now will you please come down here and kiss me so we can make up?" she asked. She was, of course, referring to the rather ridiculous height difference between them. James absolutely towered over her, and it made it impossible for Lily to reach his lips of her own accord; instead, James had to lean down in order for them to kiss.

James looked at her, angry expression still etched on his face, "No."

"_What?_" James had never denied her any sort of affection; in fact, she often had to tone down his advances in public. In the entire three months they had been dating, he had never once passed up an opportunity to touch her, most especially when she was expressly asking for it.

"I _said,_" James mimicked her, "_No." _

"You're not going to kiss me?" Her eyes were large and her voice was sad. The perfect puppy-dog expression. There was no way he could deny her now.

"Nope," he answered quickly.

"Well," she pried, "Why not?"

"Because I'm cross with you," he answered simply. "I'll kiss you again when I've forgiven you."

"Jaaaames!" she whined, "I _said_ sorry!" She stepped toward him and pressed herself against his body. She reached as far as she could, but still barely came up to his shoulders. She looked up at him, "_Pleeeease?"_

James tilted his head slightly upward, avoiding her gaze, and her mouth. "No," he maintained.

Lily stood on her tiptoes, pursing her lips, and trying in vain to catch his mouth. James tilted his head further upward. "Please?" she whispered with a smile.

James shook his head.

"Ugh!" Lily pulled away from him, frustrated now. "Well, fine then!" she huffed, "If you're not going to kiss me, I'll just have to kiss you!"

James's expression of anger changed quickly to one of confusion. Lily caught a glimpse of it as she turned on her toe and stalked off. James stood in confusion for a few moments, watching his girlfriend leave, then disappear. He wondered briefly if he should follow her, but the thought left his mind as she returned to view, hunched over and walking backward toward him.

She turned as she made it closer, and James couldn't help but laugh when he saw that she was carrying a stool, of all things.

"There!" she said and she set it down on front of him. It took her only half a second to climb on top of it, and it put her only a few inches above him. Her resolve softened as she looked in his eyes, "Are you very cross with me?" she asked shyly.

James smiled, "I'm never very cross with you."

"Good," she grinned. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her hands drifting automatically to his hair to play with it. She pressed her lips lightly to his. Before James could deepen the kiss, Lily pulled away and gave him a small smile. "Forgiven?"

"Of course," he returned the smile. "You know," he added, "I think I could get used to this. My back is rejoicing."

Lily giggled before kissing him again.


	13. Louder Than Words

**Louder Than Words**

"Hey, James!" she called, jogging a bit to catch up with him. He heard her, turned and stopped to wait for her.

"Hey, Lily," he replied, a smile on his face, "How are you?"

"Very well," she replied, grinning at him. "You were excellent on the Quidditch Pitch today."

"Thanks," he slung his broom over his shoulder. "Think we have a chance against Hufflepuff?"

"Oh," she said, "I think you have a chance with anyone." A smirk played on her lips.

"Really?" he questioned, "Because they're team is in top form this year…"

Lily tried to remain attentive, she really did. But, well, Quidditch was not what she had been referring to. Was James really that oblivious?

She tried again a few days later.

"Hi, James," she greeted as she sat down beside him.

"Hullo," he replied cheerfully.

"Any exciting plans for Hogsmeade this weekend?" There was _obviously_ a hopeful tone to her voice.

"Not really," he said, "Probably just spending it with my mates."

"Well then," there was a swooping of butterflies in her stomach, "Maybe we can meet up for drinks?"

"Sure!" he grinned, "I'll let the guys know."

It took all of Lily's restraint not to let her face fall into her hands.

Every moment became an opportunity to try and tell him how she felt.

"You're brilliant, James," became her catchphrase.

"I'm so lucky to have you as a partner," was said at every Head's meeting.

"I'm so glad we're friends," was uttered at least once a week.

And when she was feeling particularly brave, "You know, you look quite fit in your Quidditch uniform…"

It was all true, and she said it _all_ the time. Nearly every time she opened her mouth, something positive about James came out. But he s_till_ didn't get the hint. After several weeks of subtly dropping hints, Lily decided that it was time to just be out with it.

"James," she said. She tried to keep her voice serious, but she couldn't help the smile that fell onto her face whenever she was around him.

"Lily," he responded. He gestured to the chair next to him.

She took it immediately. They were close, but Lily leaned in a bit anyway. She looked directly into his eyes, ignored the knotting in her stomach, took a deep breath and, "James, I fancy you."

He was silent for a moment; an expression of confusion crossing his face. It cleared a moment later, and he replied, "Ha, ha, Lily very funny. Taking the piss out of me because I have a crush on you. Hilarious, really."

She sat stunned as he rose from the table and walked away from her.

He didn't believe her? _He didn't believe her!_ He thought she was making fun of him. But didn't he realize? How could she- Well, if he wouldn't believe it when she _told_ him…

Lily was swinging her arms excessively, she knew. She had to. How else would her hands casually bump into his?

"Hey, James?" she started quietly.

"Yes?" he responded. He hadn't properly talked to her since he stormed off.

"I wasn't teasing you, the other day."

He stopped in the middle of the corridor and turned to her. "You don't have to lie about it too," he snapped.

"But I'm not!" she pleaded desperately. "I'm not," she took a step closer to him. Her arms were around his neck in a moment, "I promise," she whispered, before she pressed her lips against his.

Thankfully, he did not immediately pull away. He responded, he kissed her back! For a few moments, anyway, until it seemed reality sunk it. Slowly, he moved away from her. "Well, that's just mean," he said.

"Not if I meant it," she smiled.

"Did you?"

She couldn't help but laugh and shake her head, "James, I've been dropping hints for _weeks. _I flat out told you that I fancied you, and I just snogged you in the hallway. I'm not Sirius, I wouldn't go that far for a joke. I'm being honest. I like you. A lot. I want to be with you, I want to date you, and I really want to kiss you again."

James was silent for a moment longer, "Really?" he said with a grin.

"Yes!"

James replied by kissing her.


	14. Rubbish Explanations

James watched in mixed excitement and horror as the Gryffindor and Slytherin Seekers reached for the Snitch at exactly the same moment. There arms were dead even. Slytherin was ahead, but not by much, the catch would determine the winner. It was too much. He closed his eyes and held his breath.

"AND GRYFFINDOR CATCHES THE SNITCH!"

The roar the followed was deafening.

As was the music already blaring in the Common Room when he arrived. There was always music at these things. James wasn't sure how it was managed; Muggle record players didn't work, and he didn't know of any that could fit in a trunk anyway. Maybe it was charmed somehow.

There was food piled atop several of the tables; Sirius, Remus, and Peter must have raided the kitchens already. Once upon a time, he would have gone with them. Recently, he's been held up after matches. Everyone wanted to congratulate the captain, it seemed. Well, _most_ everyone. There was a certain ginger who adamantly avoided it.

Not that it mattered much today. James didn't feel much like celebrating, and he didn't think he deserved much congratulation either. Didn't these people realize how close they had come to losing? It was a lucky catch that won the match, and that was just not good enough. Of course, it made a good show, and that's what people liked. It was apparent how much they had enjoyed this particular victory. He was sure the Firewhiskey hadn't even been opened yet but it was a joyous ruckus all the same, everyone was celebrating. Even that certain ginger. She was dancing with her friends and probably had no idea how sexy she looked doing it. Well, at least that was a distraction.

He made his way toward the food, he was sure he could find some Firewhiskey there. It took a bit; he dodged several more "Congratulations!" and a few "Good jobs!" along the way. When he finally made it, he had no trouble finding the Firewhiskey, and as he thought, he was the first to it. He grabbed an entire bottle, pulled it open and took a long drink. It burned as it went down, but he felt better as he swallowed. Now quiet was what he wanted, space to think, or at least get drunk it peace.

Alas, there was no where he could go. His dorm was, ahem, occupied, and leaving the Common Room with an illicit beverage was something not even he dared to do. He settled on a corner with a good view of Lily's dancing and cast a spell that allowed him to hear nothing of his environment. He sipped the bottle slowly, mesmerized by her movements. Eventually he became so dazed that he failed to realize that her motions had changed from swaying to walking.

It took her standing right it front of him, looking at him expectantly, to snap out of it. He pulled out his wand and undid the spell, and answered her with a, "Huh?"

"I said, 'enjoying the show?'" Her look was scolding.

He couldn't help but grin, "Very much."

"You're too much," she said, "Drunk by one at your own party."

"I don't see a problem with that."

"I wouldn't if you weren't alone."

"Join me, then," He held out the bottle to her.

She hesitated a moment before taking it from him and bringing it to her lips. She winced as she swallowed. "Gods," she said, "How do you drink that?"

"Practice," he gave her that wicked grin he knew she hated and took the bottle from her to press it to his own lips.

"Obviously too much," she scolded him and took the bottle. He hoped she would take another drink, because sharing a bottle was _almost_ like kissing, but she only set it on the floor. "Tell me, why are you drinking yourself to stupor instead of enjoying your party?"

"Give me the bottle back and I'll tell you."

She picked the bottle back up, analyzed it a moment, and put it to her lips, downing the rest of it. She pulled it away, coughing and sputtering.

"Merlin, Evans!" He jumped up to pat her on the back. There hadn't been all that much left, but it was a lot for one go, "That was a bloody stupid thing to do."

"Yes," she nodded, "Yes it was." She handed him the bottle, "Tell me."

"I'm too much," he rolled his eyes. "I don't feel much like celebrating so I was drinking instead."

"Well that was definitely not worth drinking all that Firewhiskey. I think I deserve to know why as well."

"We almost lost."

"So you don't feel like celebrating."

"It shouldn't have been that close."

"But it was exciting."

"He should have blown them out of the water."

"What's the fun in that?"

He shrugged, "I suppose that's a decent argument."

"I thought so."

"Worth the Firewhiskey now?"

"No."

He chuckled, and looked over at her. Her face was flushed, and it only served to highlight her features. "You finished off a bottle of Firewhiskey for me."

"Well I wouldn't say it was _for_ you. What'd you get out of it?"

"What did _you_ get out of it?"

"A bad after taste and an early buzz."

"And a story," he added.

"An explanation," she corrected, "And a rubbish one at that."

"You're the one that asked for it."

"That doesn't make it less rubbish."

"It's the truth."

"Still rubbish!"

"Right then," he ruffled his hair, "What can I do to make up for it?"

"Why do you do that?" she asked.

"Do what?"

"That thing with your hair."

"Oh, did I do that? I didn't notice."

"I'm just not going to get a proper explanation out of you, am I?"

"Probably not."

She stood up and grabbed the hand that had run through his hair. "Dance with me, then."

"What?"

"Dance with me. That's how you can make up for your rubbish explanations."

"Dancing? Really?"

"Yes, really."

And James thought maybe, today would be a day for celebration after all.


	15. jealousy

Lily snapped up from her homework as she heard the portrait hole open. She had trained her ears to it after several weeks of spending her evenings waiting anx-patiently for her boyfriend to return from Quidditch practice. She was now able to tell when someone was entering the Common Room from even the furthest corner away. It was nearly time for James to be returning from practice, she knew from instinct, and so she was not surprised to see his tall figure walking through. She was, however, surprised to see him accompanied by Janet Farnes.

Tall, blonde, exceptionally pretty, and athletic, Janet Farnes was every single thing Lily was not. She was also currently walking entirely too close to her boyfriend and whispering secrets, sweet nothings, dirty suggestions or some other equally vile words into his ear. And he was laughing at them! That was completely unacceptable. She was the only one allowed to whisper to him, and certainly the only one who should be able to make him laugh like that.

Once, she had been able to forgive this. They were teammates, after all, and friends, and it should only be expected of them to walk into the dorm together after practice. It had started out normally enough, but they had steadily begun walking closer together, and then she was giggling, and now she was whispering things to him and Lily. couldn't. take. it. any. more.

She rose immediately from her seat, stomped over to where they stood, still whispering, and still laughing, grabbed James's hand to gather his attention and said in the sweetest voice she could muster, "Hello, Love. Fancy a walk?" She smiled up at him in the way she knew he loved, then turned to Janet, and with a face like venom said, "Hello, Janet."

"Hi, Lily," she responded. "I'll, uh, leave you to your walk, I guess. Have a nice night, James."

He waved farewell, and Lily began pulling him back toward the portrait hole. "Can't I at least put my stuff away and change first?"

"No," she said, "I can't wait that long."

As soon as they were out of public view she threw herself onto him, kissing him as passionately as she could manage. Much to her chagrin, he pulled away after only a moment or so.

"Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?" he asked, irritated.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she responded.

"Don't you?" he asked, "'Hello, Love,'" he mocked, "'Fancy a walk? I can't wait that long!'" His tone changed to nearly angry, "The Lily Evans I know would never act like that."

"Oh, really? Far be it from me to want to spend some time with my boyfriend!" Her voice was rising, and she couldn't do a thing to stop it.

"Well did you have to do it while I was in the middle of the conversation? Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was?" He shouted right back.

"Oh, I'm embarrassing you now, am I? It's acceptable for you to march in with some trollop drooling all over you, but I can't pull you away from her because that's embarrassing for you. But it's not at all humiliating for me when my boyfriend is practically snogging Janet Farnes in the middle of the bloody common room!"

"I was not practically snogging anyone!" His tone shifted from anger to amusement, "Is that what this is about?" He let out a laugh, "So that explains it then. Lily Evans is gone, she's been replaced by the Green-Eyed Beast."

"I've always had green eyes, thank you."

"I know, but you have not always been so jealous. Or have you and you're just now letting it out?"

"I," she stammered a bit, her jaw dropped in offense, "I am not-"

"You are so jealous you can hardly see straight," he was out and out laughing at her now, "It's kind of adorable, actually. I never thought I'd see you so flustered."

"I. Am. Not. Jealous."

"Oh, you are. It's okay, Evans, if I were dating me I'd get jealous too. I am devilishly attractive. It's not my fault girls throw themselves at my feet!"

"Well you don't have to encourage it!" She snapped before thinking. Immediately she brought her hand to her mouth, shocked such a thing had come out of her mouth.

"And there we have it," James said, crossing his arms over his chest in satisfaction. Lily turned away from him. "Hey," he said gently, "It's okay. I'm a bit chuffed about it, actually."

Lily shot him a look of indignation. He laughed it off.

"Lily," he said, wrapping his arms around her middle, "I'm absolutely crazy about you," he whispered into her ear, "Don't you know that by now?"

Lily couldn't stop the swell of butterflies in her stomach as his hot breath tickled her ear. "Well it's not you I'm worried about," she admitted. Her arms covered James's and her head rested against her shoulder.

"Are you worried about Farnes? Really?"

"Yes, it seems like she's all over you at practice and then she's whispering things to you and I don't like it one bit."

James chuckled, "She doesn't fancy me," he said, "She fancies Remus. She's been trying to talk me into setting them up."

"As if a girl has never tried that to get closer to a boy she fancied."

"No, she does!" Lily broke free of his grasp and turned to face him, still incredulous "They went out this weekend. She was telling me what she thought about it. That's why she was whispering, and that's why I was laughing."

"Promise?" she asked quietly.

"Yes, I promise."

She smiled at him and he pulled her into a hug. "You were worried about her? What did you think she was going to do? Only amortentia could pull me away from you and everyone would know something was off."

She grinned up at him, "I suppose."


	16. Selfish

He is selfish, by nature. It's not anyone's fault, he is what he is. His mother had tried to instill in him the virtue of sharing; but with no siblings, it was hard to drive the point home. It got a bit better as he got older. If something gave him happiness, wouldn't it give someone else happiness too? And seeing the people he cared about happy was the best feeling on earth.

It did not apply to all aspects of his life, however. His broomstick was his and his alone. He kept an extremely detailed count of his sugar quills. And when it came to her, well, the virtue was all but lost.

He knew that she wasn't his, exactly; she did her best to belong solely to herself. She conformed to no one, made her own rules and was just so her. It was part of why he found her so alluring. But she gives herself so willingly to others, and he hates it.

He hates that he is not the only one that can make her laugh. She does not have a secret smile reserved for him; anyone can bring those out. She is always kind, even when the others don't deserve it. She will always listen, always trust, always love. And he is the sole recipient of none of these things. She gives them to him, more to him than to anyone, but it still upsets him that he has to share.

He doesn't like to share. But if he did not, if he kept her hidden in a room, locked away solely for himself, the light within her would surely go out. If she didn't share herself so freely, she would not be her, and however unhappy it may make him, he would never change her.

So he takes comfort in the fact that there are some things only he can experience. Only he knows about the freckles that spread across the most intimate places; over her lips, across her knuckles, down her neck and in a line above where her breast is hidden from the sun. Only he knows exactly how the firelight illuminates her hair in that magnificent way, how it frames her face so perfectly, and how when at just the right angle, it lights up her entire face, as if the light within is finally radiating outward. Only he knows what her lips feel like against his (his lips were made for hers, no other kiss could possibly compare), how her hand fits so perfectly within his, how well their bodies meld together, as if they were truly one being.

(He realizes that these things are not hidden, but he knows no one else has noticed them. If they had, they would feel the same way as he, and he would never have stood a chance.)

He, only he, knows what it is like to be loved by her. To be really, truly loved by her, in every sense of the word. He knows that he must share it, but he likes to know it's his.


	17. Autumn

The crisp autumn air bites at your nose and leaves a flush in your cheeks. It enthralls you. Your torso is wrapped in a lovely woolen sweater, a warm scarf is wrapped around your neck and your hand is entwined with his. You aren't sure how this could get any more perfect.

The sun is beating down through the red, yellow, orange leaves of the trees, illuminating the path ahead and creating a cathedral of color around you. You smile as you walk; there's a happiness burning inside of you and it's shining out for the world to see. You look up at him, he's smiling too.

He takes the hand that's holding yours and moves it so his arm is draped around your shoulders and your arm is crossed over your chest. It pulls you closer and you can feel the heat radiating from his body. You lean your head on his shoulder and gaze up and his lovely face. He looks down at you and smiles even wider.

"I love you," you whisper.

"I love you, too," he says.


	18. Remnant of a Muggle Life

Lily didn't keep much from her life as a Muggle. The way she made tea, her clothing, the ability to drive a car, and of course, her record player. No matter how long she lived in the Magical world, she could simply not get used to listening to music on their static, broken radio channels, and Magical music was nothing compared to what the Muggles had. The Rude Mechanicals could not hold a candle to The Beatles, or Queen, or Billy Joel, or anyone on the Muggle stations. They could not compare, no matter how often James tried to convince her.

She couldn't use it at Hogwarts, of course, but she was thrilled to learn that it would work in her flat when she graduated- there wasn't enough magic to interfere. It was incomparably blissful to come home after a long day of working for The Order to be able to put on a record; an old favorite, or a new selection, and sing along, cry to it, or dance around the house as ridiculously as possible.

James hated it. He didn't like Muggle music, he didn't like the way the record player scratched against the vinyl, he didn't understand how Lily could be so easily cured of the stress they faced on a daily basis. He put up with it for her sake, because it did seem to heal her, and at least one of them should be mended if it was possible. And, well, he didn't mind watching her dance either.

On a rare day off, they woke and breakfasted together, then went about their separate ways relaxing. James headed out to the yard for a fly and a run and basically anything he could manage. Lily stayed in, he could hear her music from the yard. After a few hours, his stomach began grumbling, and though he dreaded it, he could not put off returning to the house and facing Lily's dreadful Muggle music. It sounded fairly upbeat though, perhaps she'd be putting on a show for him to enjoy…

He grabbed a banana from the counter in the kitchen, began peeling it and walked into the living room, where he found Lily dancing like a maniac, and singing along at the top of her lungs. He plopped onto the sofa, and watched her as he enjoyed his snack. All too soon, the song came to a stop, and Lily moved quietly to the record player, and shuffled around a bit.

James swallowed his last bite of banana and Lily whipped around to face him as a piano pounded out the opening cords. Lily began moving her shoulders with the beat, then taking slow steps toward him. By halfway through the first verse she was right in front of him, holding out her hands.

James shook his head.

Lily nodded.

He shook his head again.

She grabbed his hands and pulled him up. He stood grudgingly and allowed her to move his hands with hers as she wiggled and sang along to the chorus. James's shoulders began to move almost of their own accord toward the end of it, and by halfway through the second verse his hips had joined them. Lily beamed at him, and he couldn't help but return the smile. When the bridge came around, he released one of her hands, threw it over her shoulder and grabbed her waist and began turning them in circles. Lily threw her head back in laughter, but allowed him to spin her around and around. Through her laughter, she was still able to mouth the words, in mock seriousness when it was required, which caused James to laugh as well. Toward the end, he spun her outward and pulled her back close to him, where he pulled her into a dip. As the final line rang out, he pulled her back up to him, and they kissed as the final notes faded into silence.

"Only the good die young…"


	19. perseverance

For Hannah :)

Lily relaxed against the tree, tilting her head back as the late autumn sun filtered through the golden leaves and warmed her face. The textbook in her lap weighed heavy upon her; she was meant to be doing homework- she should really be holed up in the library- but it was such a nice day. She had attempted to bring her homework outdoors, but she had not retained a single line of information. It wasn't surprising really, the outdoors were not conducive to studying and they never had been. Instead, she was enjoying a last bit of warmth before the winter came, allowing the sun to kiss her face one last time before the snow began to nip at it. Her textbook nagged at her, but she was peaceful nonetheless.

A cool breeze rustled the leaves and blew over the pages in her book, losing her place. She shrugged. All had been lost anyway. The sound of crunching leaves drew her attention away from her textbook and toward the castle. She opened her eyes and slowly moved her head to greet the intruder. "Hello, James!" she called to him.

He jogged a bit to meet her faster, "Hullo," he replied. He reached her tree and leaned against a branch. "Studying?" he asked, glancing toward the book upon her lap, "On a day like this?"

"Trying," she chuckled, "It's not working out very well." She patted the ground beside her, motioning for him to sit, "What brings you out here on this fine day?"

He sat on the ground beside her, "Fancied a walk. It's far too nice a day to stay inside."

"Agreed," she smiled at him. She sighed wistfully and said, "A walk does sound lovely."

"Join me?" He grinned.

"Are you sure I wouldn't be intruding?"

"You couldn't if you tried."

She smiled back at him. He rose and offered his hand to help her, which she accepted gratefully. She held the book with both hands in front of her, and tucked it under her arms.

"What are you studying?" He asked.

"Transfiguration," she said, "Have you finished it already?"

"Nah," he shrugged, "Haven't even started it."

"Lucky you," she looked at him from the corner of her eye, "You don't even have to try to make top grades."

"Like you have to try in Charms or Potions," he said sarcastically.

"I do try in Charms and Potions. Just like I try in every other class. They just come a bit easier is all."

"But you don't have to try, you choose to. There's a difference," he nodded, playfully smug.

"If I didn't try," she explained, "I wouldn't do nearly as well as I do. And I enjoy them, so it's not like trying is a chore."

"I suppose that's fair," he shoved his hands in his pockets, "Are you having trouble with the Transfiguration?"

"Not too much, the reading is just a bit dense is all."

"It is quite a bore, and I even like the subject."

Lily laughed, and a proud smile graced James's face for only an instant. "It didn't help that today was so beautiful either," Lily said, still smiling, "the sun can be so distracting." Lily closed her eyes, and tilted her head upward, once again allowing the sunlight to wash over her face, a look of complete bliss etched upon it. It was James's turn to laugh.

"Why even attempt to read it out here then?"

Lily looked at him and very seriously said, "I have no idea. It always sounds like an excellent idea, because I'll be productive and get to spend time in the sun, but I never, ever end up actually being productive." She ended in a laugh.

James joined her. "Then why keep attempting it?" He asked playfully.

"Oh, you know," she waved her hand dismissively, "Something about Gryffindor perseverance or something."

He laughed again, "I thought our defining trait was bravery?"

"Well bravery and perseverance go hand in hand, obviously."

"My mother did always tell me to 'try, try again'."

"See!" she exclaimed, "Words to live by. Especially for Gryffindors."

"She was a Ravenclaw, actually."

"Very wise words, anyway," she laughed, "You should implement them more." There was a hint of something deeper in her voice that James was entirely aware of.

"And what about you?" he went on, ignoring the comment's sincerity.

"Obviously I do," she said, resuming her playful demeanor, "I mean, why else would I be outside trying to study when I know I'm doomed to failure?"

"Perhaps you're right then-"

"I am always right."

"I'll have to 'try, try again' more often."

"If you ever need help practicing," Lily said, "I'm very good at it."

James looked over at her, and together, while walking in the bright yellow sunlight, they burst into laughter.


	20. Silence

She opens her eyes, and hazel ones greet her. A friendly combination brown and green. It's really, really lovely. She can't believe how long it took her to notice. The eyes are smiling. Or they're twinkling with the light that means he's smiling, she's memorized it already. She smiles back at him. He moves closer and catches her lips in a soft, sweet kiss. She giggles, he smirks.

His arm is draped across the pair of them, resting on her body. His hand is drawing lazy circles on her bare back. The sensation is incredibly soothing. He passes just so over a particularly sensitive patch of skin, and it sends shivers all the way down her spine. It tickles and she squirms, moving her chest ever closer to his. She scolds him with her expression; he ignores it and kisses her again. She can't keep a straight face when he does that, can't do anything but grin when she's around him, so she gives up playing cross and beams at him.

She thinks he might say something, but he doesn't. It's very quiet between them, and she has the urge to whisper to him: "I love you, I need you, I'm so glad I found you." But she doesn't.

She doesn't need to. The silence is enough. The way that they're smiling at each other is enough. The way they just made love is enough. The look in his eyes as he gazes at her is enough.

She loves him, wildly, madly, deeply, truly, completely. And he loves her in the same crazy way. It is such a complete truth, such an undisputed fact that it doesn't need saying.

Instead, she leans over and kisses him again.


End file.
